


The Dragon's Bride

by 1800areyouslapping



Series: Commissions [5]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Mild Sexual Content, Romance, dragonlord!sojiro
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-24
Updated: 2018-09-24
Packaged: 2019-07-16 14:28:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,209
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16087985
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/1800areyouslapping/pseuds/1800areyouslapping
Summary: Another commission for the amazing Gal Pals anon! <<33 You’re a girl living in a studio Ghilibi-esk AU. A strange man walks into your village one day and stays a while. Strange. Once the man showed up you started having dreams about a dragon lord.





	The Dragon's Bride

The sky darkened, but also didn’t. The way it always did around your village. A village surrounded by lush vibrant trees and bountiful healthy wildlife. It rained, and yet the Sun still shined so brightly. Enough for the villagers to go about their busy day-to-day lives. Children screamed and splashed in puddles. The sky only darkened enough to house the transparent rain clouds. Clouds that to you looked normal, but to visitors, to the people passing through your quaint village, always took a moment out of their perilous, long journey to observe.

“They’re so… shimmery, Mama!” a child exclaimed to his mother.

She looked to the sky and you followed her gaze. Yes, they were shimmery, even the fat dollops of rain that fell from them seemed to incase glitter. But why that seemed to be abnormal to the little boy was a mystery to you. That was how it’d always had been, and how it always would be.

The young mother hummed. “Yes, they are quite strange aren’t they sweetie?” She reached into her silk blue coin purse, juggling her hardworking umbrella at the same time while she fished out coin. She handed the payment to you, you handed her her omamori, and the transaction was complete.

You each thank each other for the business and she walked away, chin still tilted towards the sky. She handed the charm to her son and said, “They’re odd but very pretty, don’t you think?” You had to laugh because the child couldn’t have cared less about the clouds anymore. He held the charm in his hand and was mesmerized by what he had been handed, the odd clouds forgotten.

Rain beat against the wood roof of your town’s gazebo, what might as well have been your gazebo. A safe place to set up your business and keep your product dry. You’ve heard great things about your omamori. How your charms have helped get travelers to their destinations safely. How they’ve promoted good fortune, kept bandits away. Even a few new parents have attributed their newborn children to your work.

This is how you make a living. You make these trinkets and sell them as a testament to the Gods. Wholeheartedly, you believe in their power. If only their power and good luck would transfer over to you and your village.

While the blessed forest that surrounded you and the plentiful materials within it kept you stocked with charms, you rarely had patronage anymore. Travelers rarely take the mountain path that leads to your home. The terrain was too dangerous. Pathways too jagged, crumbly. Most aren’t willing to risk it. Even if the path and your little village that resides at the end of it is the fastest route to the places beyond, that are much bigger and much livelier than yours.

Only the desperate take that route. Like the young mother and her young, young son. You noticed her cough. Light at first, but then it turned into a fit. Hoarse, ragged breathing. She doubled over and her sweet worried child pressed the charm you just sold her to her chest. She clutched it there while she gathered herself back together.

She needed a doctor. Needed one as soon as possible. One of the new age doctors promising miracles in the growing cities. So she took herself and her little son through the tumultuous terrain.  

You closed your eyes and prayed. For her, not for yourself. You didn’t have too much faith in the Gods, at least not when it comes to your own prayers. You did have faith when it came to others. You saw it all the time: the Gods pulling through for the people who walk in and out of your life so quickly. Not that you didn’t respect them. It’s just you grew tired of praying for yourself and decided to put all your good energy into making a living on your own.  

Besides, you could have had it much much worse. You really didn’t have it all that bad at all. You had a roof, your own quaint home, food, and clothes on your back. A way to make your own money, even if business wasn’t flourishing.

Murmurs caught your attention and brought you out of your own mind. A new traveler had arrived. New visitors typically create a hush over the town. But this one, this one not only created a hush but a persistent buzz. It was all very out of character, the way people cowered into corners, stepped back into their homes. The way they held hands over their mouths as they whispered to each other.

Normally at the very moment a group, an individual, a pairing step out from between the trees, having made it safely across the rocky mountain, someone was ready to run up and greet them. This man, however, with his jingasa not on his head but hanging from his neck resting on his back, a hat that is lacquered and specialized to withstand wet weather was not greeted, but rather stared at.

Not understanding what has come over the humble citizens of your village, you took it upon yourself to grab your own waterproof parka, large enough to cover yourself and another adult. The man held his arms across his unnaturally puffed out and bumpy chest. You assumed he had possessions that were vulnerable to the unrelenting water falling from the sky and broke out into a jog.

“Sir!” you exclaimed as you approached him, “Please take shelter.” 

The rain fell too harshly for you to get a good gander at his face. He ducked under your shawl and let you guide him to your gazebo. Watchful, curious eyes followed you all the way there. Just as you were about to throw the shawl back over and onto the ground, you took pause. His face was just next to your face. A slight crane of your neck and you were looking him right in his shiny, wise brown eyes.

You couldn’t tear yourself away. You kept staring. Without any embarrassment whatsoever. Shame was not something that was usually lost on you but it was in that moment. You took in his face, the sharp lines of his bone structure. The lovely plains. His black, greying beard. Messy, pulled back hair mirroring the same color. The water that shimmered as it rolled from his hairline down to his chin hypnotized you quicker than the most seasoned miko in your village.

“That was thoughtful of you,” he said.

“W-hat was?” you asked. 

He grinned and pointed up towards the shawl that was still covering both you and him. “I would have managed, but I do appreciate the thought.”

“Oh… oh!” You threw the shall off in a panic and tossed it behind your counter of goods. “Not much thought behind it, truthfully.” Your way of saying it was nothing. With the spell gone, all of the shame crashed down upon you. Your cheeks blushed bright, your eyes downcast to the floor. 

To cut through what you felt was awkwardness you extended your hand and blubberingly introduced yourself. You repeated his name, “…Sojiro,” you wrang your hands together, “I feel as if I’ve heard that name before.” 

“It is possible,” he said with a nod of his head. He wasn’t too keen on staying on the topic. His attention turned quickly to your wares. “You made these?” he asked. 

You nodded, “Yes!” recovered from your odd, flustered state and slipped right into the saleswoman you were. “Did you want to purchase one?” you leaned in and grabbed a hold of a charm, made of rich silver silk, and embroidered with gardenia. “This one will bring you good luck on your journey.”

“I think I will take that one, yes,” he said as he reached for a closed box, “could always use a little more luck…” 

“Oh, um, that’s…” 

Before you could sufficiently warn him to the contents of the redwood box, the lid was already open. He raised a curious eyebrow. “…That’s where I keep the fertility charms, you know, to keep them shielded from innocent eyes,” you explained.

“I see.” He reached into the box and took hold of a silk peach bag with a red flower embroidered in the center, whose petals were folded over each other in a very suggestive way. “Do these do the trick?” he asked, a cheeky, knowing grin on his face. One that you couldn’t quite read. Was he knowledgeable in the power of charms and just wanted to tease you?  

“Yes, actually,” you stated. 

“How do you know?” he questioned. 

“Well, because they have an expiration date!” You delved into a whole spiel, a spiel you always give to customers. It is true what you say. Charms expire once their purpose has been fulfilled, and it is wise to bring them back to where they originated so they can be laid to rest in a sacred fire. Lest the charms turn on their owners and start to bring them bad luck. 

You explained that you’d met nearly every child that was born with the help of your omamori. As the parent(s) would travel back just to thank you and lay their charm to rest. “You’ve never heard of these things?” you asked.

“Hm? Oh. No, no I have.” He slipped the fertility charm into his yukata, pulled out a tiny coin purse. He handed the coin purse to you, and also took the good luck charm you had recommended. 

Your jaw dropped. “Why are you making me explain everything?!” 

“I enjoy hearing people talk about their passions.”

“Oh…” a ray of sunlight startled you as it hit your face. You looked towards the sky, held a hand above your eyes to shield yourself from the brightness. “It stopped raining,” you said, absentmindedly. When had that happened?

“A shame,” he said as he stepped out of the gazebo. “Would you be so kind as to point me in the direction of your village’s room and board? I’ll be needing a place to stay for a while; I can pay well.” 

You knew just the woman he needed to talk to. Mrs. Baba would be more than pleased to house him; especially with the promise of money. So it was a shock to you when you escorted him to her and she fervently turned him away.

“I have no room!” She never spoke at a normal volume, though normal volume for her was yelling. You were baffled, no room? How? “A large family came in today,” she explained. She spoke to Sojiro as if she already knew him, “Six little loud brats, their parents, and their grandparents!” 

“I would rather have a quiet man like you, trust me,” she said as she patted his chest; he didn’t seem to mind the breach of his personal space, Sojiro regarded the touch with a soft smile. “Afraid you are too late! An agreement has already been settled.” 

The aforementioned six children screamed, giggled, and ran out. They weaved between you, Mrs. Baba, and Sojiro; not without bumping into you or without tugging on clothes. Stomping all along the way, they all disappeared outside. “So loud,” she complained, covering her ears with her hands. 

“As children sometimes are,” Sojiro said quietly.  

She scoffed and ushered the both of you out of her home. You were taking up more room than she had available. That was quite unprecedented, you’ve never taken a traveler who needed housing to her, and heard her say that she had no room.  _Never._  You knew of one other citizen who might take Sojiro’s business, but something compelled you to offer him more of yours.  

Your home wasn’t much but you were hospitable enough to share it. The bigger, heavier silk coin purse certainly helped to stave away any second thoughts you might have been having, that also came from between the folds of his plain blue yukata. Was that thing a bottomless pit?

You were somewhat ready for company. You’d kept a second sleeping mat for the occasional visitor. Had plenty of food, drink. You just weren’t ready for the company himself. He made himself at home. He eased right into helping you prepare dinner. When he got in the way more than he helped you asked him to, please, have a seat. He did and pulled even more things out from between the folds of his yukata.  

One of the things: a bamboo flute that he’d play for you after you’d both eaten your fill and were ready for bed. Sojiro played so well; was that his profession? Was he a wandering minstrel? Going from city to city, gathering tips and moving on? Though the amount of money he had dismissed that idea. No wandering minstrel you ever knew had his or her pockets lined, heavy with coin.

When you voiced your observation, Sojiro said, “Ah, yes… yes that’s right,” he spoke as if he was just now realizing it, like you opened up his eyes to his very own profession, “I am a wandering minstrel. It’s a good living,” he said with a chuckle. He kept playing the flute. He was truly talented with it. It sounded like magic. It resonated in your chest, gently coursed through your veins. Lulled you into a deep, warm, cozy sleep as if under a spell.

* * *

That calm night was the first night you dreamt of the dragon lord but did not remember meeting him when you woke. Every night Sojiro would play you the flute and you fell into a routine with the man who used to be a passing stranger and turned into the village’s favorite minstrel. The village’s favorite storyteller, he gathered nearly the whole town who’d listen to him for hours. Men and women alike loved to drink and fish with him, the catch always came back plentiful.

The more you dreamed of the dragon, the more you were able to remember the dreams. At first, they were alarming. They felt so real, you thought it  _was_  real the first time you woke up with the memory still vibrant in your mind. As you laid on your mat collecting your sanity, you still felt the cool breeze on your skin, smelt the forest, the wet soil, grass, and leaves. You looked at your hands and could still see the pearl-like scales of the dragon underneath them, feel their smooth texture. Heard his deep, enthralling, melodic voice still whispering his history in your ears.

You had asked who he was, and unlike the private newcomer in your waking life, the dragon was an open book. With everything that was, except his name.

“ _I am the great all father of the dragons. Ruler of the heavenly realms and all corners of the earth._ ” He did not speak from his mouth but from his mind, the words were all around you, had a tingly effect on your body. “ _My sons, Hanzo and Geji, are the famous_ ,” the dragon paused to laugh, “ _or infamous dragons, dependent on your opinion, of the north and south winds.”_

Hanzo and Genji may have been his most well-known kin, but the all father had descendants of his seed reaching across the plain of Japan. Ruling dynasties and empires, protecting forests, leading wars, and parading around as humans living normal lives. You’d study the scrolls telling their story, searching for their father’s name. But the great all father of the dragons had many, many names. None of which were confirmed. It was rumored that only the wives he’s taken over his ancient life ever had the privilege of knowing his true name.

Time stopped moving the way it usually did when you dreamed: fast, and all at once. In fact, it felt as if time stopped existing. You never slept more than eight hours; you always rose with the morning sun. Sometimes when you’d dream you’d spend days with the dragon lord, evidenced by the rise and fall of the Sun there. Days, brushing his fur, shining his scales, riding him across the crystal blue skies, and through the gorgeous, unadulterated waters.

Sleeping no longer meant sleeping, rest. It meant laying down to the peaceful tune of your unexpected roommate: cryptic Sojiro’s flute, slipping into a whole other universe where it was just you and a dragon lord who was utterly, wholly, completely, and without-a-doubt enamored and in love with you. Your dreams, whether they were real or not, left you with very real feelings. Truth be told, you couldn’t tell if he was real or just an elaborate figment of your imagination. 

You were a fairy tale princess without the tiara or the dress; without anything for that matter. You appeared in your dreams nude and unashamed it; none of the usual embarrassment that would come with the dreams where one appears naked in front of an unexpected crowd of strangers. 

“I feel like I’ve known you for years,” you said as the dragon prowled around your naked body, framed by the greenest, softest, shiniest grass you’d ever seen or felt. “Can’t I know your name?”  

“ _You already know it._ ” His tail dragged across your neck, tickled feather soft. Swam down your body in a seductive wave.

Your hips lifted off the ground. A shiver snuck up on you, painted your skin with goosebumps. You gasped, a sharp intake of breath that threw your head back as his tail slipped between your legs and teased the sensitive flesh between them. “I do not,” you said, breathless. “I think I would remember that.” 

His tail curled around your ankle and gently opened up your legs. “ _You have all the pieces of the puzzle. You’ll put them in their place._ ” The dragon lord snaked between your legs, as much of him as was possible. He rested his chin on your stomach. His whiskers, his fine silver hair evanescent as if he was underwater.

Before you could complain or beg or playfully insult, he nuzzled his cold nose against your belly, stealing the words away. He grinned all the way from the very tip of his snout to the corners of his long jaw, revealing stark white, sharp, killer teeth. Canines, that pressed into your soft skin. Frightening;  _arousing_. Warmth flooded deep down in your tummy and seeped out between your legs.

His razor pointed eyes, both dangerous and comforting with their rich, brown warm color, smoldered as he shimmied lower. It used to be difficult, looking him in the eyes. He held so much history, so much time, knowledge, and experience in them, it used to feel crushing as a mere mortal to behold them.  

The dragon lord inhaled your sex deeply. His fur bristled, and his serpentine, long, muscle of a body shuddered. “ _Exquisite_ ,” he crooned. His pink tongue flicked and perfectly cradled your nub. He pressed, flexed, and created a suction-like feeling that had your hips rolling, wanton, underneath him.  

When they became a little unruly, the dragon tamed them with two clawed feet keeping them grounded. Light pinpricks dug into your skin and hurt in the most delicious way. You struggled regardless of his nails, just to feel more of his raw strength. You loved him for the beast that he was, that he could ravish you in any way he wanted, if he so chose to.

But he didn’t ravish; not that time. He skillfully licked, long drags between your slick folds, brought blood and heat into your tingling, tiny bundle of nerves until you were writhing, moaning, wishing you had a name to cry out. Wild pleasure flowering and exploding out from your hips. You gripped and tore up grass, breathed in raged chest shaking breaths.

He let up as your moans tapered off into struggled hums. Went back to resting his head on your belly. “ _I could live between these legs_ ,” he mused.

You wanted to tell him you were happy to let him move in, wanted to weave your hands into his hair, thumb his bushy eyebrows. But the Sun cast across your closed eyes; not the Sun in your dream world. One that, no matter how much it shined down upon you, never burned your skin. But it was the Sun in your waking world. Your internal clock kicked in, eyes fluttered open, and you missed him as soon as his image left your mind’s eye.  

“Had a… riveting dream, did you?” The muffled, smug chuckle was evident in Sojiro’s tone. You shot up to see Sojiro sitting at your small floor level kitchen table, nursing a steaming cup of tea, poking at a bowl of rice. “I have to admit,” he said, “I am quite jealous of the dream man who could make you sound like that.”

“Wasn’t exactly a man,” you found yourself admitting as you lept up and gathered yourself together. 

“Oh? A woman then?” 

“ _No_ ,” you said. It was far too early in the morning to be blushing that hard. You barreled out of the door and headed towards the lake. No more inquisitions; if he pried any further, you’d tell him all about your dream state romance with a dragon lord. What you needed was to submerge yourself in the cold lake, and clean away your arousal.  

* * *

You found yourself emotionally torn between the majestic dragon lord in your dreams and the wise, mischievous handsome man in your reality. You loved them both. But neither would have been willing to share your love. The moment you fell in love with Sojiro was memorable. It wasn’t when he fed you sake. Held and tipped your cup at your lips. Bare-chested, laying on his side with you on your small mat. That… that was when you fell into heated lust. It wasn’t during one of his engaging, elaborate stories. Stories all about dragon lords and their kin. Emporers and empresses with grand abilities and the power to command their dragon descendants.

It was one drizzly afternoon. Sojiro entertained the kids while the parents took a rest, they sat on their porches, drinking tea, eating lunch, and watching the show. While you lounged by the river along with the children, amused. Sojiro stood waist deep in the river as effortlessly commanding as he ever was.  

“Today!” he said loud enough for both the children and their parents in the back to hear. “You will all learn about the art of catching fish with your bare hands.”

He held his arms out at his side, palms up. “First!” he started up, commanding unbridled attention. The children took Sojiro very seriously, sitting poised and quiet. Watched him with great interest. You, however, were suspicious. “First, it is important to–”  

Suddenly, a large bass jumped right out of the water and perfectly into his open hand. He regarded it with exaggerated shock and confusion. “No, no that’s not right,” he wagged a finger from side to side, “this never happens.” He tossed the fish back and continued with his instruction,

“In life, the things will not just… fall into your lap! You must have patience! You must be willing to work hard! Be clever, and–” two large waggling fish jumped out of the water that time. One into his hand and the other one dived into the breast of his yukata, flapping its tail wildly.  

Parents from the back whispered, “ _Magic man._ ” You didn’t disagree with them.

He sighed heavily as he let the tail hit his chin over and over, casually dropped the fish in his hand back into the water. The children loosened up. They leaned forward more to get a better look, some shook with laughter. Sojiro tried again, and again to explain. Every time he tried to instruct the fish would jump out of the water wilder and more ridiculous than before. One slipped into the neck of his yukata, another hit him across the face before splashing back into the water. That one really made the kids roar with giggles; made you laugh; you fell in love.

What seemed like a year in your dreams was only a couple of months in your waking reality. Sojiro never stated why he wanted to stay in your little village for so long; you’d learned to stop questioning his motives. Unless you wanted a roundabout answer that always led to  _you_ spilling information. Even though the dragon lord was a being who was way beyond memorable, Sojiro still held your undivided attention when your eyes were open.

Over the months that followed a miracle started to happen. The mountain terrain leading into your village started to mend itself. The rain that seemed to plague your town moved rocks, fell trees, and created mudslides that usually would lead to devastation. But instead, created new, safer paths. In turn, more travelers made their way through your town. Your business started to flourish more than it ever had. The travelers brought goods for trade that you hadn’t seen in years. Some even wanted to stay, went to your village elder asking for citizenship and permits to build.

With your charms being sold at a higher rate, and some special requests you found your time being filled up more than it usually would be. You now had a reason to visit the beach, just a few miles from your village, that you loved so dearly. There you’d take part in a skill you’d learned from your mother. Certain charms required offerings or materials that took dangerous work to get. You’d learned to hold your breath for up to two minutes, and swim stronger than any person you’d ever met.

Well, minus the dragon with the supernatural ability to effortlessly cut through water, that is.  

The goal was to get a pearl or two. You stripped down to the bare necessities, a loincloth, and a wooden barrel, acting as a buoy, tied around your waist. Even if every dive (that sometimes took you thirty feet under the water), didn’t produce a pearl you always came back to the surface with something. A shellfish, some seaweed, pretty shells; they would all have their uses.

When you came to the surface with a clam clutched in your hand, took a peek at its insides and saw that lucrative pearl, you excitedly swam to shore. You sat waist deep in the water and finished prying to pearl from its mouth. A nice size, it was shiny and peach in color.

“ _Here I thought mermaids had gone extinct._ ” 

You froze up; that voice, the dragon lord’s voice… were you dreaming? No. No, you weren’t dreaming. The Sun baked your skin, it dried out the water on your face, and you could feel the effects of its harsh rays.

Slowly, you turned around. There he was floating at the top of the ocean’s surface. His tail swished from side to side. He just barely peeked out at you from under the water, his muzzle still submerged. He snaked across the surface until he was emerging from the water; beautiful, even more beautiful than he ever was in your dreams, and you hadn’t thought that was possible.

Your heart beat fast in your chest, tears welled in your waterline. “You’re  _real_ ,” you whispered, in awe.

He smirked, tut-tuted and shook his head. “ _You knew that._ ”

“I did not,” you said, breathless.  

“ _You did_ ,” he countered back. As he came closer you reached out a hand. He bowed his head so you could run your fingers through his hair, palm his scales. He rumbled with a purr, the tears rolled down your cheeks. He was so amazing to touch; like nothing you’d ever put your hands on. Even if your dreams had been immaculate, they couldn’t hold a candle to touching him in your real life.

You lovingly nuzzled your head against his forehead. Somewhere between being inexplicably joyous, all the relief that welled up in your chest and was spilling down your cheeks, all the excitement that overwhelmed your brain, a crushing realization hit you. A glaring one; brighter than the Sun. One that had been right in front of your face the whole time. The familiar face of a certain silver fox came to mind, and suddenly you just  _knew_. 

You reared back, grabbed a fist full of his hair, and looked into his eyes deeper than you ever had before. “ _My love_ ,” he crooned with a toothy grin, “ _that hurts_.”

“Sojiro!?” you accused.

“ _Shhh, not so loud_.” He looked around, searching for any passers-by. “ _That knowledge is just for you._ ” 

You hopped up onto your feet. “I can’t,” you stopped your foot, splashed up water that smacked him in the face, “I actually  _can_ , but I can’t  _believe_  you!”

You stomped your way out of the ocean, not sure where you were going or what you were going to do with your newfound knowledge. But at that moment, you were upset. You had been lamenting, and feeling near adulterous over your split love between a dragon and what you had thought was a mortal man.  

“You dropped your pearl,” he said. You turned around and any disbelief you may have had was carried away with the frothing waves. Sojiro stood there as naked as you, cupping the pearl in his hands. “Forgive me, for the confusion,” he said as he approached you. “If you couldn’t love me as I was born, then I’m afraid I would have had to set you free.”

You huffed and crossed your arms. “I suppose I understand the need to test.” Irritation gave way to relief. The dragon and the man you loved were one being. There’d be no need for choosing or breaking one’s heart over the other. All the drama of a love triangle, lost, and you were happy about it.

“I knew you’d understand.” Sojiro removed one hand from on top of the other and revealed your pearl. Except it wasn’t just your pearl anymore, it was a ring. Loop made of silver, emboldened with diamonds around its circumference.

“…H-hey…” you said, mesmerized. “I needed that…”  

“Be my bride.” Sojiro took your hand and slipped the ring on your finger. It fit perfectly, glinted in the Sun. When you looked close enough, the pearl now contained an ocean of its own. You stayed silent. Jaw dropped open in shock and awe. “Marry me,” he insisted. 

“I don’t know…”

You wanted to say yes, but somehow his proposal felt like he was asking you to leave the life you had worked hard to built for yourself. You remembered fondly the palace he had shown you, one under water. His home. A magnificent one it would be for you, that was for sure. But did you want to leave your own behind in exchange for it? 

“I’m not asking you to leave your life behind,” he said, as if reading your mind…  _could_  he read minds? “I’ve spent ages in my secluded palace under the sea, I adore your village, I think I’d like to stay on land for a lifetime or two.” 

“Okay,” you nodded. Leaned forward, tilted your chin to allow him the kiss that you had been denying him for months. “ _Yes_ , I’ll marry you,” you whispered against his salty lips. 


End file.
